


The Rhythm of the Rain

by shadowofrazia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP Drizzle Fest 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:46:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8271476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowofrazia/pseuds/shadowofrazia
Summary: Two years ago, Hermione would’ve given everything to be studying in the Hogwarts library. Now, she was exhausted, haunted by memories of the war she had no choice but to fight in. Draco does what he can to make her smile.





	

Hermione stared out the window at the rain falling over the grounds outside. Her attention was waning, and she was exhausted. Two years earlier, she would’ve relished the opportunity to be holed up in the Hogwarts library doing Arithmancy research that demanded her full attention. 

But she didn’t care. She couldn’t, not now that everything--

“I never thought I’d see the day Hermione Granger looked so unhappy in a library.”

Hermione pulled her gaze away from the window and gave Draco a tired smile.

“Not unhappy, just--”

“You’re not fooling anybody, Mi,” Draco said, leaning over and resting a hand on Hermione’s back. He looked at the books and notes spread over the table.

“How long’ve you been at this? I didn’t see you at breakfast or lunch today.”

“I got something from the kitchens earlier.” Hermione twisted the end of her braid between her fingers.

“You play with your hair when you’re nervous,” Draco said, taking Hermione’s hand and pulling it away from her hair. “When’s the last time you slept?”

Hermione pulled her hand away and looked down into her lap. 

“It’s harder on my own,” she murmured. “The dreams feel more-- They feel more real when I’m alone, and I’m always alone. No one in my house will speak to me. They hate me.”

“No, they hate me,” Draco said gently. “Come on, get your things. We need to get you out of here.”

“Draco,” Hermione protested weakly, even as Draco gathered her things.

Draco was always careful not to disrupt the careful system Hermione had when she was working. As irritated as she was to have him pulling her away from her studies, she couldn’t help but smile at his actions.

He was always so careful.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, glancing over from where he was packing her things away. 

Hermione shook her head. 

Draco eyed her strangely for a moment, but lifted her bag and swung it over his shoulder with his own. He offered his hand, and Hermione took it, letting him pull her away from her desk. He squeezed Hermione’s hand as they walked through the library; he could feel the glares at their backs, too. 

This was their normal, now. 

Draco led the way through the Entrance Hall and through the front doors, ignoring the protests Hermione gave about the rain. 

“Draco, we’re going to get sick walking about in the rain like this,” Hermione said. 

“We’ll be fine. Anyway, a trip to the Hospital Wing will give Madam Pomfrey a chance to tell me how pale and thin I look,” Draco said with a wry smile. “It’d be unfair to deny her that opportunity, don’t you think?” 

Hermione frowned, shivering at the cool October rain against her skin. 

“My books--” 

“ _ Impervious, _ ”  Draco said, tapping his wand against their bags. He stowed his wand and offered his hand.

Hermione took a deep breath and took it.

“Draco, you don’t need to worry about me,” she said as they walked.

“You need to talk to somebody, Mi,” Draco said. “You’re not sleeping, you’re jumpy, your clothes are hanging off of you--”

“You shouldn’t comment on a woman’s body.” Hermione bumped her shoulder against Draco’s.

“You need to take care of yourself.”

“It’s strange to be on the receiving end of this speech,” Hermione said. “Usually, I’d be doing this to--to Harry.” 

“He still hasn’t written you back.” It wasn’t a question.

Hermione shook her head. 

“He hated you. He was coming around after the war, but--” Hermione shrugged. “I suppose finding out we’d been together for so long before the war put the nail in that coffin, so to speak.”

“He still spoke at my trial. He’s the whole reason I’m here instead of a windowless cell in Azkaban.” Draco pointed out. “As many problems as Potter and I have had over the years, he is a good man. I think he’ll come around. Weasley might not. He’s had a thing for you since at least fourth year.” 

“They were my best friends,” she said miserably. “I did horrible things during the war, just to stay alive. We both made the choice to keep our relationship secret. It was the only way--”

“Mi, I know that. I was part of that conversation,” Draco said. 

Hermione wiped at her eyes. 

“Ginny won’t even look at me, and I--I can’t sleep because all I see is Professor Snape bleeding, and that snake coming at me and Harry, and Bellatrix’s face as she--” Hermione stopped walking and covered her face with her hands to muffle the sound of her sobs.

“My parents--my parents were asleep--my mother was. I did her memory first,” she said. “But my father woke up, and the fear--He was so scared. ‘Hermione, please,’ he said. I think there was a part of me that didn’t want to restore their memories because I knew he would remember that. He won’t even be alone in the same room as me anymore. When I try to fall asleep at night, I just remember the look in his eyes.” 

“Hermione--”

“My mum doesn’t understand why I won’t come home to visit more often, or why we won’t come to dinner. She doesn’t understand that she should hate me.”

Draco pulled Hermione against his chest and let her weep, much like she’d done when he’d explained that he couldn’t walk past the staircase to the Astronomy Tower without feeling faint, and that every time he saw a snake, he remembered Nagini on his dining room table, slithering towards the corpse of a Hogwarts professor. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione mumbled. 

“Why?” he asked.

Hermione shook her head.

Draco sighed, and said, “Hermione, we all made different choice during the war, some of us for better reasons than others, but we did what we had to do to stay alive.”

“Harry and Ron, and my parents--”

“They’re going to come around,” Draco said again, more forcefully this time. 

“If you insist.” Hermione pushed a lock of wet hair out of her eyes. “What are we doing out here, anyway? I never imagined you to be someone who enjoyed long walks in the rain. Actually, I imagined you as quite the opposite.” 

Draco laughed. 

“Because I’m so pale?” he asked. 

“I mean--” Hermione flushed. “I--Yes, I suppose.”

“When I was younger, my mother would take me out to play in the rain. She loved everything about the rain: the look, the smell, the feeling.” 

“I can’t really imagine your mum running about in the rain,” Hermione said. 

“She was born into Pureblood society. Her greatest weapon was her ability to hide her mind behind her beauty,” Draco murmured. “But she was a great mother, for all that. She loved to garden. She taught me piano, hated flying, enjoyed cooking, but rarely had a chance to do it as my father preferred to have the house-elves do all of our cooking.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’re not the first one to make assumptions about what sort of mother she was,” Draco said lightly. “Like I said, we did what we had to do to survive.” 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said again. 

“So am I.” 

“Draco, you don’t have to apologise for your--” 

“I’m not apologising for my mother,” Draco said. 

Hermione stopped. “Draco, I don’t underst--” Her eyes fell on the puddle just past where they were standing. “Don’t you dare!”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Draco was jumping, full force, into the puddle, splashing Hermione with cold, muddy water. She shrieked in surprise and jumped away. 

“Draco!”

“What?” he asked, fighting back a grin, as if he wasn’t standing ankle deep in icy water. He looked at the expression on her face, and his smile faded. “Hermione, I was just messing around. I didn’t mean--”

“I’m going to give you three seconds to run,” she said. 

Draco didn’t wait another moment. He turned and ran, splashing through puddles as he went. 

Hermione chased Draco around the grounds, laughing every time her fingers grazed his robes. It’d been ages since she’d done something as childish as playing in the rain, and it was the most fun she’d had in nearly as long. Her clothes were sticking to her skin, and she was freezing, but she felt free, like nothing else mattered. 

“Hermi--” Draco gave a shout and disappeared from view. Careful not to slip on the wet grass, Hermione hurried after him. 

“Draco!” Hermione took small steps towards the bottom of the hill where Draco was sitting. Despite her efforts, she felt her feet sliding out from other her, and she landed hard in the mud beside Draco, who laughed loudly. 

“Are you okay?” he asked over the sound of the rain. 

“I was coming to ask you the same thing,” Hermione said. “My robes are ruined.” 

“Cleaning charms work wonders,” responded Draco, still laughing. 

Hermione shrugged. And then she laughed. “Look at us. We’re sitting in a puddle having a conversation in the middle of a rainstorm. I’m freezing.”

Draco tucked his hair behind his ears. “But you’re smiling.”

Hermione leaned against Draco’s side, pressed a kiss to his lips, and smiled. 

“So are you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta, darkravenwrote, and to Fall Out Boy for the title.


End file.
